has singular distinction if he is really a republican,"
thought Mademoiselle de Verneuil.

To see all this at a glance, to brighten at the thought of pleasing, to
bend her head softly and smile coquettishly and cast a soft look able to
revive a heart that was dead to love, to veil her long black eyes with
lids whose curving lashes made shadows on her cheeks, to choose the
melodious tones of her voice and give a penetrating charm to the formal
words, "Monsieur, we are very much obliged to you,"--all this charming
by-play took less time than it has taken to describe it. After this,
Mademoiselle de Verneuil, addressing the landlord, asked to be shown to
a room, saw the staircase, and disappeared with Francine, leaving the
stranger to discover whether her reply was intended as an acceptance or
a refusal.

"Who is that woman?" asked the Polytechnique student, in an airy manner,
of the landlord, who still stood motionless and bewildered.

"That's the female citizen Verneuil," replied Corentin, sharply, looking
jealously at the questioner; "a _ci-devant_; what is she to you?"

The stranger, who was humming a revolutionary tune, turned his head
haughtily towards Corentin. The two young men looked at each other for
a moment like cocks about to fight, and the glance they exchanged
gave birth to a hatred which lasted forever. The blue eye of the young
soldier was as frank and honest as the green eye of the other man was
false and malicious; the manners of the one had native grandeur, those
of the other were insinuating; one was eager in his advance, the other
deprecating; one commanded respect, the other sought it.

"Is the citizen du Gua Saint-Cyr here?" said a peasant, entering the
kitchen at that moment.

"What do you want of him?" said the young man, coming forward.

The peasant made a low bow and gave him a letter, which the young
cadet read and threw into the fire; then he nodded his head and the man
withdrew.

"No doubt you've come from Paris, citizen?" said Corentin, approaching
the stranger with a certain ease of manner, and a pliant, affable air
which seemed intolerable to the citizen du Gua.

"Yes," he replied, shortly.

"I suppose you have been graduated into some grade of the artillery?"

"No, citizen, into the navy."

"Ah! then you are going to Brest?" said Corentin, interrogatively.

But the young sailor turned lightly on the heels of his shoes without
deigning to reply, and presently disappointed al